Fiction, poetry and musings by Gregory T. Janetka

Poetry: As Long As Time Permits

As Long As Time Permits

As long as time permits, let’s sit here, okay?
Who gets to say if it is permitting or not?
Whoever wants to. Someone has to lead, you know.
There’s no sense behind it.
You are correct, sir.
Someone has to be. I guess. Eventually.
Then let us sit.
Fine. But what’s in that great big melon of yours? What if I stood and you sat?
Anarchy.
Anarchy?
Pure & simple.
Well, let’s not risk it then. I’ll sit, I’ll sit.
Shut up, Barbara.
Barbara’s not here.
Oh. Forget I said anything.
Done and done.
So where were we then?
Oh, you know, sitting.
Right. Sitting. I suggested that, didn’t I?
Like nobody’s business. NOBODY’S BUSINESS.
Son.
SON.
There’s nothing to do, kiddo.
So what you’re saying is that this is going nowhere.
Nowhere fast.
Should we end this?
I suppose.